


Speak my language

by Cirelli



Series: Network Love [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Barman!Soonyoung, BooSeokSoon besties!!, Fluff, Getting Together, Guitarist!Chan, Guitars, I can't write anything else what do you want me to say, Jigyucheolchan are in a rock band together, Kinda?, M/M, Minor Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Seokmin | DK, Misunderstandings, Performances, Piercings, Playlist, Rock singer!Chan, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Strangers to Lovers, aggressive flirting, and roommates, cuteness, serenades, the slightest bit but it's okay I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29158041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirelli/pseuds/Cirelli
Summary: After one of his best friends gets himself a new job at a bar called "the Network" downtown, Seungkwan comes visit, just to see what the place looks like. (Soonyoung's insisted so much on the "cool decoration" aspect that Seungkwan is half-expecting to set foot in a tiger shrine.)The bar turns out surprisingly charming, all lit up with fairy lights and equipped with a stage for small bands to perform live.Seungkwan might have liked it a lot it it weren't for the infuriating singer of the rock band that plays there every Friday named Chan. For God knows what reason, the latter seems hell-bent on humiliating Seungkwan whenever he comes to the bar, dedicating a love song to him every week without fail.Maybe, just maybe, if Seungkwan keeps ignoring him, then Chan will finally leave him alone and everything will be fine...But when do things ever go his way?
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Lee Chan | Dino
Series: Network Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140383
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	Speak my language

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 🌞 I'm back again!!  
> Here's my modest contribution to the Boochan tag, because those two definitely don't get the love they deserve! And my heart can never get enough of them 🥺️🥺️
> 
> It all started with a quote from a book I was reading last month: "He'd dedicated numerous songs to her over the last three months, all roundly ignored." It's very simple, very unimportant, but yes, that is all it took for me to bring 14k words of Boochan into this world OTL
> 
> CW: mentions of alcohol in almost every scene
> 
> As Chan is a rock singer in this AU, he comes to cover various songs throughout the story! I've put them all in a playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4xssDW12htF6FYSUh7HdME?si=kzk90eTFRYCTpP1tROlPfQ) in case you're curious about the originals~
> 
> As usual, thank you to my friend [thanku4urlove](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=4551485&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=thanku4urlove) for beta-reading this fic and (lovingly) kicking my butt when I thought it was garbage! Love you 💖 Please consider checking out her works if you don't know them!

**—** **✨** **WEEK ONE** **✨** **—**

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me out to a _bar_ , hyung,” Seungkwan complains loudly with a huff, his breath turning into a misty cloud. “I’m freezing. We could be home with mugs of hot chocolate right now.”

Despite his woolen mittens, he can feel the cold slowly piercing through the thick layer and numbing his fingers. Seungkwan buries his hands deep inside his pockets, hoping to retain as much warmth as he can.

“Soonie wanted you to come see where he works now! He’s very proud of that place, you know,” Seokmin explains with a wide smile as he leads the way down the busy street.

Seungkwan sniffles loudly. The things he does for his best friends…

They’re evidently not the only ones resorting to alcohol to warm up, tonight. It’s a Friday night and nobody can resist going out for a drink or two after an exhausting week, freezing temperatures or not. It’s a good thing Seokmin is tall and fairly wide-shouldered; he can easily walk through the crowd — albeit apologizing profusely every time he bumps shoulders with strangers — while Seungkwan follows closely behind.

“We’re here!” the redhead exclaims, pointing at a street corner.

Seungkwan cranes his neck to peer over his friend’s shoulder curiously. A blue neon sign spelling “The Network” in large letters shines brightly in the night, surrounded by blinking lightbulbs. He doesn’t know much about the place, other than it being a live bar and its interior decoration being “the coolest thing you’ve ever seen, just you wait, Seungkwannie!!” — Soonyoung’s words. Seungkwan wonders if they have tiger prints everywhere.

The youngest is fully prepared for the worst but he’s pleasantly surprised by what he finds when he steps inside. The place has been decorated with an intricate combination of blue and purple lights, creating a cozy, vibrant atmosphere he was definitely not expecting. Here and there, a few customers sit in comfortable lounge chairs as they talk animatedly around a few drinks. In the corner, he notices an empty stage where several instruments have been prepared — presumably for the songs that will be performed tonight.

And most importantly: no sign of anything tiger. Maybe that place isn’t as bad as he initially feared after all.

The two friends walk up to the counter and settle on high stools. Seungkwan’s eyes hover over the wall where trumpets have been hung as decoration, surrounded by countless fairy lights. The ceiling is remarkably low, adding to the intimate ambiance. Seungkwan smiles to himself: the Network looks like a wonderful place.

They don’t have to wait for long before a familiar face comes to greet them.

“Seungkwannie! You came!” Soonyoung beams as he steps closer, distractedly wiping a glass. “Hey babe!”

The oldest leans forward to plant a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, and Seungkwan shyly averts his eyes. He’s still adjusting to his two best friends having finally turned boyfriends. Not that it came as a surprise — Seungkwan has played a major matchmaking role in that whole endeavor — however, he can’t help but feel like he’s third-wheeling whenever the three of them go out together.

“Yes, well, you can thank Seokmin hyung for that. It’s too cold to be outside,” Seungkwan sulks, pouting like a five-year-old.

“Nothing a drink can’t solve, then!” the brunet replies enthusiastically. “What will you two have?”

Seungkwan goes over the menu attentively and ends up picking a brown ale while Seokmin orders a _Cuba libre_.

“Be right back, good sirs,” Soonyoung grins before he goes to prepare their drinks.

Seokmin’s eyes follow his boyfriend as the latter grabs a couple bottles from the shelves, busying himself with his cocktail-making duties, but Seungkwan’s attention is back to the empty stage. A gorgeous electric guitar, painted all in black and white, is waiting patiently for its owner next to the standing microphone. Seungkwan is curious to see what kind of performances they will watch tonight.

As the night goes on, the bar gets progressively more crowded, to the point where the space in front of the stage has entirely filled up with eager fans.

“Do you have a local celebrity playing tonight, hyung?” Seungkwan raises his eyebrows in surprise, his head rested inside the palm of his hand as he watches fangirls elbowing each other to get to the front row.

“It’s just Channie,” the oldest replies, waving his hand at him. “He should be here in a few minutes.”

Sure enough, as soon as Soonyoung leaves to serve another customer, someone dressed in ripped jeans and a black leather jacket steps on stage, accompanied by three other musicians in similar attires.

Seungkwan finds himself staring longer than he would like in the singer’s direction as the latter picks up the black and white guitar and adjusts the strap around his shoulder. His hair falls into parted bangs on his forehead, appearing slightly purple under the neon lights. When the singer — “Channie”, was it? — runs a distracted hand through it, Seungkwan swallows. The man is more attractive than he would like to admit.

When the musician looks back his way, Seungkwan quickly adverts his eyes and turns to face the other way, cheeks slightly hot. _Busted._ He takes another swig from his beer, then throws another glance at _Channie_ over his shoulder, but the latter has already stopped paying attention to him.

“You look excited, Seungkwannie,” Seokmin notes, giggling as he sips quietly on his cocktail. “Did someone catch your attention?”

“No way,” the youngest scrunches up his nose, eager to change the subject before he gets teased by his friend. “This place is incredible! It’s amazing Soonyoung hyung got hired here.”

“Yes, Soonie looks very happy ever since he got the job!”

When the lights get slightly dimmer and everyone’s attention shifts to the imminent performance, Seungkwan turns on his seat to face the lit up stage. There are so many people packed in front on it that Seungkwan can only the singer’s head sticking out as he grabs the standing microphone.

“Good evening everyone,” Chan starts, and the small crowd responds with an excited cheer. “Thank you for joining us tonight!”

His voice sounds like honey to Seungkwan’s ears, and the latter melts a little inside. He’s curious — and more excited than he would admit — to see the sort of performances the singer will show tonight. Chan pauses briefly, glancing at him, and Seungkwan slightly raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’d like to dedicate our first song of the night to the cutie with the striped shirt sitting at the counter!”

Seungkwan looks down at his own clothes — an old pair of black jeans and his favorite striped shirt he put on in a hurry this morning — in shock and his brain short-circuits. _Is… Is that supposed to be_ him _?_ When Seungkwan’s wide eyes dart back in the singer’s direction, the latter replies with a teasing wink as he starts playing the first notes of the song on his guitar.

“Oh wow,” Seokmin laughs out loud when he realizes who Chan’s description relates to.

“Shut up, hyung,” Seungkwan covers the redhead’s mouth with his hand before he can add anything else.

The singer’s eyes meet Seungkwan’s as he gets closer to the mic, slightly opening his mouth when he breathes in, and he smirks. Seungkwan is stunned, his cheeks turning red from the unexpected attention.

_🎶_ _You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you_

_🎶_ _You'd be like heaven to touch, oh I want to hold you so much_

When Seungkwan recognizes the lyrics, he cringes internally. _That Channie_ _guy can’t be serious right now…_ He turns away from the stage and covers his face with his hands to escape the dirty looks Chan’s fans are throwing in his direction.

“Did Kwannie get himself an admirer?” Seungkwan hears Soonyoung tease next to him, and the youngest raises his head to glare at him.

The brunet simply laughs at him, lacing his fingers with Seokmin who bobs his head to the beat, and both keep blissfully ignoring Seungkwan’s mortified state. What a bunch of unhelpful friends he has, he thinks as he braces himself for the chorus.

_🎶_ _I love you baby, and if it's quite alright_

_🎶_ _I need you baby, to warm a lonely night_

He would like nothing more but to dig a hole into the ground and disappear from sight. His body might have turned red from head to toe by now, considering how hot he suddenly feels.

_🎶_ _Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay_

_🎶_ _And let me love you, baby, let me love you_

When the song comes to an end, Chan throws an ultimate wink in his direction and Seungkwan’s face scrunches up. _Who does he think he is!?_

“I am never coming back to your stupid bar, hyung,” he hisses, and Soonyoung laughs even louder.

**—** **✨** **WEEK TWO** **✨** **—**

Seungkwan comes back the next week, albeit reluctantly, when Seokmin drags him there against his will. As the two step inside the Network, the youngest can’t help but look around suspiciously. The memory of his last visit is still fresh in his mind.

“Channie’s not here, Kwannie,” Soonyoung hums with a knowing smile as he leans on the counter.

“You say that like I’m looking for him,” Seungkwan scoffs indignantly.

He’s not, okay? He’s certainly not. Not one second, nope.

Seungkwan stops turning around and goes back to sipping his beer quietly while the two lovebirds giggle at one another. He scrunches up his nose at his best friends. They’re so disgustingly cute, he sometimes regrets setting them up together.

(He doesn’t, but they do remind him constantly of his own singleness.)

For some reason, Seokmin insisted on Seungkwan wearing his heart-patterned shirt today. He doesn’t get the big deal about it — sure, it’s very pretty and he probably doesn’t wear it often enough to do it justice — but he gave in and agreed to change. His best friend looked delighted.

After an hour and a few more drinks, Seungkwan has forgotten all about the outrageous singer and is enjoying himself peacefully, laughing at the inane things Soonyoung and Seokmin are saying. After fifteen years of friendship, his two best friends have yet to run out of silly skits to perform.

It’s only when the stage lights up behind him, prompting the excited cheers of the small crowd, that Seungkwan remembers why he promised not to come back. When he turns around, he sees Chan climbing up under the spotlight with his three band members, waving cheerfully at their fans.

“You said he wasn’t here, hyung!” Seungkwan complains loudly, turning to Soonyoung.

“Well, he wasn’t here _yet_ when you asked,” the brunet replies with a stifled laugh.

The youngest scoffs as he turns back to the stage, arms crossed in annoyance. Hopefully the singer won’t single him out again. Maybe it’s all just part of his act, and this time another unfortunate soul will be his victim.

Tonight, Chan is wearing a loose dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked inside a fitted pair of jeans that hugs his strong thighs perfectly. Seungkwan’s eyes linger over his evident muscles a little longer than they normally would. As much as he disliked his first encounter with the man, he cannot ignore how unfairly attractive the singer is looking right now. Seungkwan grabs his beer and downs the rest of it, pushing the thought at the very back of his mind.

“Good evening everyone,” Chan starts once again, and Seungkwan wonders if he repeats the same speech every time he performs. “I’m glad to have you all here!”

The singer’s eyes hover over the crowd, as if he’s looking for someone. Seungkwan instinctively shifts on his seat, leaning back against the counter. Is it too late to run away?

“Tonight, let me dedicate our first song of the set to a special someone. He’s currently wearing clothes that match mine,” the singer croons into the mic while his fingers start strumming a familiar melody, winking mysteriously at the crowd.

As his fans start eyeing each other’s clothes suspiciously, Seungkwan squints, trying to make out what pattern is embroidered on Chan’s shirt. It looks plainly blue from afar, but as he steps closer to the stage, he notices a tiny red motif.

_🎶_ _Tonight, I want to give it all to you_

_🎶_ _In the darkness, there's so much I want to do_

Hearts.

It takes all of his willpower to stop himself from making a scene at his two best friends who are shaking with laughter. If Seungkwan could rip his stupid heart-patterned shirt off and burn it on the spot, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“You— You did this on purpose, didn’t you!” Seungkwan seethes at them, and Soonyoung starts howling without restraint. “I can’t believe it!”

A few eyes have started turning his way, and some fans start whispering among themselves. Seungkwan’s cheeks turn pink at the unwanted attention and he glares at them.

“But you two look so cute in matching shirts,” the brunet argues as he hides behind Seokmin’s back so Seungkwan can’t wallop him over the counter.

“Oh, so you decided to team up with him to humiliate me then!”

Seokmin grabs Seungkwan firmly by the waist before he can hit the brunet, holding him in place while Soonyoung retreats further away. God, at times like these he wishes he spent more time at the gym building up muscle.

_🎶_ _'Cause boy, you were made for me_

_🎶_ _And boy, I was made for you_

Seungkwan turns around and finds Chan staring at him with a bright grin as he strums his guitar with an impressive dexterity. He would have found it awfully hot if he weren’t so outraged right now.

_🎶_ _I was made for lovin' you, baby, you were made for lovin' me_

_🎶_ _And I can't get enough of you, baby, can you get enough of me?_

“I can’t believe the nerve of that guy!” Seungkwan hisses as he raises a fist in the air, his face turning to a flaming red. “What’s up with him singing me love songs, I don’t get it!”

The more Seungkwan listens to Chan’s mellow voice crooning those lover-boy lyrics, the more this situation feels like an elaborate prank.

“Maybe he has a crush,” Soonyoung offers as he cautiously steps closer, wary of Seungkwan’s reactions.

“You should know better,” the youngest scoffs, “weren’t you the one to suggest him that stupid shirt idea in the first place since he’s your friend?”

Seungkwan throws an accusing look at the brunet, but the latter only chuckles innocently, his smile growing even wider. Seokmin offers a comforting hug, patting him lightly on the back.

He has seen the singer twice in his life, and they haven’t even talked yet. Moreover, why would a gorgeous, talented man like Chan ever look twice at someone like him? No, a _crush_ is definitely a ridiculous idea.

“You could just go talk to him,” Soonyoung suggests, gesturing at the stage. “He hangs around after his shows.”

“Oh my god, I’d rather eat dirt.”

**—** **✨** **WEEK THREE** **✨** **—**

Seungkwan sips angrily on his pink cocktail — a _Love Potion_ , courtesy of Soonyoung that only earned him an offended scoff from Seungkwan — as he watches Chan belting out the chorus of “ _Call Me_ ” by Blondie. The latter shoots him a flirty wink from the stage.

“I have been lied to,” Seungkwan complains loudly.

To make him come back to the Network the next Friday, Soonyoung had _promised_ — pinky swear and all — that he would be safe from any form of mockery this time — “not that the other times were meant to embarrass you, Kwannie~”. _Right. Sure._

Why did he ever think he could trust his best friend on this?

Seungkwan leans back against the sofa, crossing his arms with a scowl. Seokmin had insisted they sit closer to the stage this time — “I want the best view on the performances, Kwannie!” — and he had _known_ he should have fiercely opposed.

To Seungkwan’s great dismay, the singer keeps looking his way as he starts crooning the second verse. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling, his cheeks heating up slightly.

_🎶_ _Cover me with kisses, baby, cover me with love_

He downs the rest of his cocktail, trying to tune out the _third_ love song in a row that has now been dedicated to him. What terrible offenses has he committed in his past life to be subjected to this?

(Maybe, just maybe, he’s slightly enjoying the attention.)

“Please bring me another drink, hyung,” he tells Soonyoung as the oldest passes by their table, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Seokmin shoots a sympathetic smile at him, patting his thigh lightly.

“Can’t be that bad to have a cute guy serenading you, though,” the redhead offers, and Seungkwan would reply with a murderous look if it weren’t Seokmin — aka a literal angel no one is allowed to be mad at.

Seungkwan scoffs. He’s not going to admit so easily that Chan is cute. Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows at him, and he pretends to hit the redhead in the shoulder.

“I can’t believe Soonyoung hyung has managed to rope you into this,” the youngest shakes his head in disbelief.

Seungkwan’s eyes wander back to Chan as the latter gives his all to the bridge, having fun with the fans crowded in the front row. The singer is beaming, like he couldn’t be happier than right in this moment, right under this spotlight. Seungkwan can’t help but smile with him. He hasn’t seen much of Chan yet, but it’s strikingly obvious that he was born to be on a stage.

Soonyoung comes back, tray in hand, as the song comes to its end. Seungkwan meets Chan’s eyes briefly, and he notices the singer biting his lower lip to refrain from smirking. He scrunches up his nose indignantly.

_🎶_ _Call me, call me any, anytime_

_🎶_ _Call me, ooh, call me_

_🎶_ _Call me my love_

“Here!” Soonyoung grins brightly as he sets Seungkwan’s second cocktail on the table. “Comes with a bonus.”

The youngest stares at his best friend suspiciously, slowly grabbing his drink like it might explode at any moment. Under the glass, he discovers a napkin with something scribbled on it. Seungkwan leans forward, squinting to make sense of the writing.

_“Call me ;)_ _♡_ _010-xxxx-xxxx_

_— Chan”_

“You can’t be serious, hyung,” Seungkwan scoffs, his face turning to the deepest shade of red it can muster. “Hell, _he_ can’t be serious.”

_Who_ on this planet flirts so outrageously? He grabs the napkin and reads it twice over to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him.

“He’s a really nice kid, you know,” Soonyoung offers, patting the youngest on the shoulder. “You should think about it!”

“Does he think that just because he’s a sexy guy with a sexy guitar that sings sexily on a stage in a bar, I’m gonna be head over heels for him?” he blabbers before he can stop himself, crossing his arms.

Soonyoung and Seokmin exchange a knowing look before they both burst into laughter, and Seungkwan covers his eyes in embarrassment. He _definitely_ needs better friends.

“If he really wants my attention, then he’d better earn it!” he declares, jumping up to his feet and grabbing his jacket to leave.

He makes sure to pocket the napkin before heading out.

**—** **✨** **WEEK FOUR** **✨** **—**

“This is _not_ what I had in mind when I said that last week,” Seungkwan groans, hiding his burning hot face behind his hands.

Soonyoung and Seokmin cackle so loudly next to him that other patrons shoot curious looks at them.

“Don’t tell me it’s not enough to _earn_ _your attention_ ,” the oldest teases, poking Seungkwan in the ribs and making him yelp.

Seungkwan takes a peek at the stage through his fingers, his heart beating loudly in his chest as he sets eyes on Chan. Unsurprisingly, the fangirls are being louder than usual too.

Tonight, the singer showed up wearing a loose tulle shirt — see-through enough to let everyone have a good look at his pierced nipples and delicately sculpted abs — tucked into fitted ripped jeans. Seungkwan wants to bite his own fist. He tries to will himself into looking away but his eyes simply won’t cooperate.

Chan’s own bandmates — Mingyu the bassist, Seungcheol the drummer, and Jihoon the keyboard player, Soonyoung has informed him — keep rolling their eyes at the singer’s over-the-top performance he’s putting on. He croons Michael Jackson’s “ _Love Never Felt So Good_ ” into the mic like he’s trying to make the entire room fall in love with him. Since all customers are staring at him, mouth slightly gaping, there’s no doubt he’s largely succeeded in that endeavor.

Though Chan has, as usual, dedicated his song to Seungkwan — this time described as “the gorgeous babe in the white sweatshirt” — he hasn’t looked at him even once during the performance, playing around with his fans instead. Seungkwan purses his lips, not knowing what to make of it. He feels slightly piqued.

“Is someone _jealous_?” Soonyoung snickers, wrapping his arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders.

The youngest groans in denial. This hyung is being way too perceptive for his taste.

“Don’t you have work to do, hyung?” he retorts, throwing a pointed look at the brunet. “You’ve been sitting here with us forever. I thought they paid you to mix drinks!”

“Didn’t want to miss that look on your face, though,” Soonyoung grins smugly. “It was delightful.”

Seungkwan wants to bore a hole into the ground and disappear forever. His cheeks have never felt so hot in his entire life.

“I hate you. All of you.” He extends his hand to pat Seokmin’s thigh lightly. “Except you, hyung, of course.”

When Chan reaches the last chorus, his eyes finally meet Seungkwan’s. The singer has only been on stage for one song’s duration, but those few minutes felt like eternity. Seungkwan’s heart beats loudly, threatening to break out of his chest.

_🎶_ _If you really love me, it's in and out my life_

_🎶_ _Driving me crazy_

_🎶_ _'Cause baby, love never felt so good_

If those lyrics are indeed dedicated to him, Chan might have got it all wrong. After all, he’s the one driving Seungkwan hopelessly crazy right now.

He sighs loudly, taking his head into his hands. This is bad.

**—** **✨** **WEEK FIVE** **✨** **—**

This is very strange.

Seungkwan throws an irritated look at the stage where a group of jazz musicians are performing some, frankly speaking, deathly boring covers of popular pop songs. He pouts, fiddling with his drink. The poor fellows haven’t done anything wrong per se, but they’re simply _not Chan’s band_. It’s a Friday night, and Chan is nowhere to be found.

“Looking for someone?” Soonyoung hums from behind the counter as he fills a couple glasses at the beer tap.

“Isn’t Chan supposed to be performing tonight?” the youngest asks, drumming his fingers on the counter.

Seokmin couldn’t make it this time — he was unexpectedly called in to work a night shift at the fire station — and Seungkwan is left nursing his drinks on his own at the counter. The Network is busier than usual, meaning Soonyoung spends more time running around tending to customers than keeping him company.

“I don’t know? Maybe?” the brunet responds distractedly, stepping towards the two girls who ordered the beers.

“You don’t know?” he pouts again, resting his head in his hand. “What if they’re supposed to be here, and they’re not, and something happened and no one is worried?”

“I’m sure the guys are fine, Kwannie, don’t be overdramatic,” Soonyoung laughs, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

Soonyoung grabs a tray and disappears again, probably off to clean tables and bring back empty glasses left around.

All in all, tonight sucks.

Not feeling in the mood to socialize with strangers, Seungkwan whips out his phone to check his Instagram feed, thinking it might be enough to distract him. But after twenty minutes of mindless scrolling, he’s back to square one, feeling even more frustrated and not distracted at all. _Where is Chan?_

He turns to lean against the counter, throwing a disapproving look at the jazz band, and considers going home after all. But not without complaining about his night to someone.

He’s kept Chan’s phone number since the napkin incident — saved under “Annoying idiot 😤” in his contact list — pondering about the sort of first text he could send, but nothing worthwhile had come to mind. It’s not like he can just say “Nice piercings”, or something — that particular image of Chan in a see-through shirt can’t seem to leave his brain anymore. How do normal people even flirt? He has no idea. Does he even _want_ to flirt with Chan? Wouldn’t it be like letting him win after all?

That’s too many questions he can’t find answers to. Soonyoung and Seokmin harassing him constantly about it hasn’t helped either.

Seungkwan feels warm and fuzzy — undoubtedly the aftermath of the three pints he’s downed since he arrived at the Network. He snaps a picture of the stage and sends it, too tipsy to overthink it.

**To: Annoying idiot** **😤**

_[Photo attached]_ (23:48)

You’re not here **😤** (23:48)

He can’t believe the nerve of that guy. First, Chan comes here four weeks in a row to make fun of him with his love songs, and now that Seungkwan finds himself on his own and in need of a distraction, he disappears into thin air? Rude.

His phone lights up, and he has to squint to read what the notifications say. The letters are starting to dance in front of his eyes, which isn’t a good sign.

**From: Annoying idiot** **😤**

(23:52) Aww

(23:52) I was wondering when I’d hear from you 😉

(23:52) Did you miss me? 😘

Seungkwan scoffs at his phone. Chan couldn’t be more mistaken. He has _certainly not_ missed him. Not even one bit. Nope.

**To: Annoying idiot** **😤**

I'm bored (23:54)

Why aren’t you here???? **😤** (23:54)

**From: Annoying idiot** **😤**

(23:56) We had a gig on the other side of town

(23:56) But we’ll be back next week 🤭

**To: Annoying idiot** **😤**

Who says I’ll be there though???? (23:57)

**From: Annoying idiot** **😤**

(23:58) 😢

**To: Annoying idiot** **😤**

Why should I think you want me there??? (00:00)

You left me on my own tonight 💔 (00:01)

“You alright, Kwannie?” Soonyoung asks when he steps back behind the counter, his tray full of dirty glasses to wash.

“Just peachy,” the youngest groans, setting his phone aside.

“Right,” he smiles, not believing it one second. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water.”

It takes Soonyoung a good fifteen minutes to wrestle him into drinking it — drunk Seungkwan can be surprisingly feisty — and the latter sulks when his best friend makes him promise to wait at the counter until the end of his shift.

“We’re going home together so you’d better not move from this spot until I’m done, alright?”

“ _Fine_ , hyung,” he agrees half-heartedly, puffing his cheeks indignantly.

“Perfect!”

Soonyoung disappears once again, leaving Seungkwan alone to deal with his spinning head. Drinking three pints so quickly might have been a mistake after all.

The bar seems to grow noisier all of a sudden, the customers whispering excitedly with one another about something. Seungkwan thought the performances were over for the night — the jazz band having left the stage at exactly midnight — but he hears a microphone being plugged in and tested.

“Hello everyone!” a familiar voice announces in his back. “I’ll be performing one exceptional song tonight, which I’m dedicating to the drunk cutie moping at the bar.”

Seungkwan snorts, wondering who that might be.

“I hope you’ll enjoy “ _All the Time_ ” by The Kooks!”

He slowly turns around on his seat to take a better look at the stage, where a single person has taken place on a stool with a black and white guitar. His eyelids are heavy, but he’s trying his best to stay awake until the end. The more he squints, the more his sight seems to be deceiving him.

_🎶_ _Why don't you stay here?_

_🎶_ _I wanna spend some time_

Maybe Seungkwan’s more drunk than he thought because it looks like Chan is the one on stage right now, singing and playing the guitar on his own. He looks as good as ever, dashing in a silky white shirt and black jeans. Could it be a doppelgänger?

_🎶_ _But you don't have to doubt or figure me out_

_🎶_ _Let me show you the way it's gonna be_

The more Seungkwan thinks about it, the more impossible it seems that another person with the same strikingly beautiful features as Chan exists on this planet at all. He strokes his chin absent-mindedly, pondering. It must be the real one, then. For some reason, he’s feeling slightly happier now.

_🎶_ _I want you to be there all the time, I want you to be there when I die_

_🎶_ _I want you, you, just don't ask why_

_🎶_ _You, you, all the time, I want you_

Seungkwan closes his eyes, slowly bobbing his head to the rhythm. He could listen to Chan’s mellow voice forever, crooning sweet lyrics into his ears until he falls asleep. A small smile spreads on his lips from the mental image.

_All the time_ , he said? Seungkwan wouldn’t mind that.

“Are you ready to go, Kwannie?” Soonyoung asks him, to which he replies with a rudimentary grunt.

The brunet sighs, wrapping his arm around Seungkwan’s waist to get him up. The youngest lets himself be manhandled, his head spinning too much for him to protest in any way. His eyes remain firmly shut, avoiding light at all cost.

“Are you gonna be alright, hyung?” the familiar voice asks Soonyoung.

“Don’t worry, it’s definitely not the first time,” the oldest assures with a chuckle. “Good night, Channie!”

“Good night, hyung.”

Someone shifts near Seungkwan, who’s too drunk to really make sense of what is happening around him. When the voice speaks again, it has come much closer to his ear.

“Good night, Seungkwan,” it whispers softly, sending a chill through his spine.

**—** **✨** **WEEK SIX** **✨** **—**

“Shut up, both of you,” Seungkwan hisses, pulling on his navy cap to hide his face even more, while Soonyoung and Seokmin keep roaring with laughter.

“Is that supposed to be a _disguise_?” the oldest lets out between two wheezes.

Seungkwan snorts and adjusts the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to come, but his two best friends wouldn’t leave him a choice and dragged him to the Network against his will.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened last Friday, but Soonyoung made sure to tell him all in great detail about how he almost _puked right on Chan’s shoes_ after the latter unexpectedly made a stop by the bar. His cheeks flame up at the mere memory. He absolutely does not want to be here today.

“If you two stopped making so much noise then _maybe_ I’d have a chance at remaining unnoticed!”

“Unnoticed by whom?” a voice he knows all too well asks behind his back.

Seungkwan jumps to his feet in fright, spilling half of his drink on the ground. When he turns around, he finds Chan leaning on the counter, looking smug and chuckling at him. It’s the very first time Seungkwan gets to meet him in person, and his mind is empty except for two thoughts: Chan is actually shorter than he looks on stage, but he’s also considerably more attractive from up-close.

“Oh, hey Channie!” Soonyoung beams, greeting the singer with an elaborate hand gesture. “You’re here early!”

“Just wanted to make sure no one misses me too much,” he hums knowingly, side-eyeing Seungkwan.

Of course. Of course he hasn’t forgotten about those embarrassing texts drunk-Seungkwan thought wise to send. Why would he? If Seungkwan could spontaneously combust right on the spot, he would not hesitate for one second.

“We’ll be right back,” Soonyoung snickers, grabbing Seokmin’s hand and dragging his boyfriend out of sight before he can say a word.

It’s official. From now on, Seungkwan doesn’t have best friends anymore.

He sets his glass on the counter and grabs a few napkins to wipe his hands, still wet from the cocktail he spilled. He’s feeling self-conscious, hyperaware of Chan’s gaze on him, looking him up from head to toe. Why did Chan have to approach him on the one day he’s dressed like a potato sack? If he’d known…

“I hope the hangover wasn’t too brutal,” the singer hums as he shifts closer to him, interrupting his train of thought. “You looked pretty smashed last time.”

Seungkwan stiffens, his eyes hovering over the singer’s collarbone peeking out under his jeans jacket, and he swallows. If he leaned in ever so slightly, he might be able to get a whiff of Chan’s perfume.

“I can hold my liquor,” he grumbles, taking off the sunglasses and hanging them on his shirt collar.

“I think you and I both know that’s not true,” the singer looks at him intently until Seungkwan looks away in embarrassment.

“Shut up.”

Chan throws his head back as he laughs wholeheartedly, making Seungkwan’s heart skip a beat. He’s never heard such a cute laugh in his entire life.

“Hey, that’s not very nice,” Chan protests, grinning brightly. “I thought you liked me!”

“I tell Soonyoung hyung to shut up at least five times a day,” he snorts.

“Ah, so you do like me then?”

Seungkwan would love to wipe that infuriating grin off his face. Either with a punch or a kiss; he doesn’t know which one he’d prefer yet. He looks away shyly, embarrassed by the ridiculous thought that just crossed his mind.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he groans, gesturing towards the empty stage where Chan’s black and white guitar is waiting along with the rest of his bandmates’ instruments.

“I thought I’d come greet you before my show. You know, finally introduce myself.” The singer turns to face him properly. “I’m Lee Chan!”

Seungkwan purses his lips, arms crossed as he looks Chan up and down cautiously. That man feels like he’s up to something.

“… Boo Seungkwan.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Chan chuckles.

Before Seungkwan can react, the singer takes his right hand delicately and lays a light kiss on top of his knuckles. He freezes at the touch, feeling a shiver going down his spine.

“I’ll go get ready for our performance now,” Chan announces, adding a shameless wink. “Don’t run away too fast after the show!”

Seungkwan stands frozen, mouth slightly gaping in shock, as the other slips away and disappears behind a door that reads “Back Room”.

“Is the coast finally clear?” Soonyoung asks when he reappears out of nowhere, Seokmin following in tow.

Seungkwan glowers at them, puffing his cheeks.

“I hate you both.”

When Chan and his bandmates step on stage twenty minutes later, Seungkwan is unusually excited. His breath hitches as Chan’s purple hair glistens under the spotlight. Now that he’s seen the singer from up-close, stripped of his over-the-top stage persona, he feels even more drawn in by his natural charm. He doesn’t think he could ever grow tired of watching Chan.

“Welcome, everyone,” the singer greets the audience as usual, flashing an adorable smile that makes his heart leap in his chest. “I’m glad to have you all with us tonight!”

Has Chan always looked this dashing?

Seungkwan leans back against the counter, cradling his drink — which he promised not to spill after Soonyoung complained about the floor being all sticky and gross — peering at the stage. His fingers drum nervously on top of the counter. He’s restless.

The audience quiets down, listening carefully to Chan’s opening words.

“Let us start the evening with a slower song for once,” Chan looks in Seungkwan’s direction, leaving him breathless. “For a very special someone in a navy cap.”

Seungkwan sighs, pulling down on his hat to hide his increasingly red face. He’s never going to stop, is he?

_🎶_ _Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars_

Jihoon is the one playing the guitar this time, slowly but expertly strumming the strings, which leaves Chan with both hands free to perform. The singer grabs the standing mic, swaying his hips gracefully as he croons Frank Sinatra’s lyrics.

Seungkwan stops moving for a moment, unable to look away. Chan seems to be as skilled with his body as he is with his guitar. It’s hypnotizing.

_🎶_ _You are all I long for, all I worship and adore_

_🎶_ _In other words, please be true, in other words, I love you_

He can feel Chan’s gaze focused on him, like the singer’s trying to tell him those lyrics are meant for only one person here: him. He exhales, releasing a breath he did not realize he was holding in, and hides his growing smile behind the palm of his hand.

At this point, he doesn’t know if he’s being delusional or if Chan is really trying to tell him something with these songs. He would gladly ask if the mere thought of getting a straight answer didn’t petrify him, whatever it might be.

Oh, well. In the meantime, he might as well enjoy the show.

Chan joins him again at the counter after his performance, dropping on the high stool next to him, and Seungkwan tries to feign disinterest. His pulse is racing so badly he’s almost afraid Chan might notice.

“How long are you going to keep this on?” Seungkwan asks without looking at him, toying with his empty glass. “The dedicated songs.”

“Hmm,” Chan muses, resting his head in his hand. “That depends.”

Seungkwan side-eyes him, intrigued. The singer nibbles on his lower lip, like he doesn’t know whether he should answer truthfully or not. A playful glimmer passes briefly through his eyes.

“For as long as it takes to make you come to the front row.”

“Like you need me there,” Seungkwan scoffs, discreetly covering his blushing cheeks with his hand. “You’ve already got an army of fangirls.”

When their thighs brush against each other, he stiffens, his hand tense around the glass. Chan doesn’t shift back. He leans in, as if to purr his answer right into Seungkwan’s ear.

“Yeah, but they’re not you.”

Here comes that smug grin again. He’s irresistible and he knows it, doesn’t he? How infuriating. Seungkwan knows, and yet he feels so defenseless against Chan’s flirting. His entire skin is on fire, covered in endless chills.

Deep inside, he just hopes he’s not being toyed with, like a mere fleeting distraction in the singer’s rockstar life. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I’ll think about it.”

**From: Annoying idiot** **😤** 😡 😫

(01:23) Good night Seungkwan 😴

(01:23) I’m glad you came 😘

**—** **✨** **WEEK SEVEN** **✨** **—**

**From: Annoying idiot** 😫 🙊 💓

(18:25) Have you heard the Network is closed today? 😴

Seungkwan groans, feeling too lazy to move from the couch. He’s been watching a romance drama on TV ever since he got home from work, mindlessly munching on homemade popcorn, but the plot doesn’t seem very exciting. He keeps dozing off every now and then.

He rolls around and extends his arm to reach his phone on the coffee table. When he sees who the text is from, his heart leaps happily in his chest. The two have been messaging each other on and off throughout the week, but every new notification still feels unreal to him.

**To: Annoying idiot** 😫 🙊 💓

Yeah, Soonyoung hyung told me 😑 (18:28)

He and his boyfriend went off on a date or something tonight so I’m on my own 😩 (18:28)

He barely has enough time to send his second text that his phone suddenly starts buzzing from an incoming call, and Seungkwan almost drops it in surprise.

“You scared me,” he mumbles when he picks up, lying back comfortably onto the couch.

“ _Oh, did I? I’m sorry, Seungkwan,_ ” Chan chuckles on the other side, melting his heart a little. “ _Are you busy right now?_ ”

He eyes his TV screen, where the two main love interests are facing each other with ridiculous, tear-streaked expressions, and he snorts.

“Not really. Why do you ask?”

“ _What do you say about going out on an adventure?_ ”

“What, like, right now?” Seungkwan looks down at his crumpled work clothes and scrunches up his nose. “You can’t be serious.”

“ _Of course I am! It’d be a shame to stay cooped up at home on a Friday night, don’t you think?_ ”

Seungkwan hums, pondering. It’s true that this isn’t how he was hoping his evening to go. With Soonyoung and Seokmin gone, his best option is to watch another five hours of this particularly bland drama before going to bed, which, he’s got to admit, doesn’t sound very enticing.

Additionally, he might have been acting slightly sulkier than usual ever since he realized he would have to wait for another full week to see Chan again.

He doesn’t take long to make up his mind.

“Give me twenty minutes,” he sighs, giving in.

“ _Great!_ ” The singer sounds way too delighted at the prospect of spending his evening with him. “ _It’s a date then!_ ”

Seungkwan chokes, and Chan hangs up before he can ask what the actual hell he meant by that, leaving him dumbstruck.

When Seungkwan arrives at their meet-up place — a tiny plaza near the Han River — Chan is already there, pacing around as he plays a game on his phone. It feels almost weird, seeing him away from the Network and its purple fairy lights.

The singer raises his head, noticing Seungkwan approaching awkwardly from afar, and he beams widely.

“Hey Seungkwan!”

“Hello…”

Chan somehow looks different tonight, dressed in a casual jeans and sweatshirt ensemble. His numerous ear piercings sparkle under the streetlights, catching his eye.

“Have you eaten yet? No? Come on, let’s go grab some tteokbokki!”

The youngest grabs his hand before he can react and drags him enthusiastically to the nearest food stall. Seungkwan’s mouth waters as the smell of greasy food grows stronger. He’s starving. They don’t have to wait for long to order, choosing a few different dishes to share between the two of them. Before Seungkwan can take his wallet out of his pocket, Chan whips out his credit card and pays for everything.

“I can pay for myself,” he scowls, his cheeks slightly flushed, which only makes the youngest laugh even louder.

They walk along the river, munching on their food and talking about everything that goes through their minds. Seungkwan tells him in great detail the story of his friendship with Seokmin and Soonyoung — starting from that time in elementary school when they almost burned down their school’s infirmary and barely avoided being expelled on the spot — while Chan complains about two of his bandmates who are being way too _lovey_ - _dovey_ all the time.

“At least you don’t have to _live_ with them,” Seungkwan sighs. “Mine are so in love it’s almost gross.”

He pouts, thinking of the astonishing amount of times he caught his two best friends cuddling on the couch and holding hands, Soonyoung laying light kisses on the nape of a giggling Seokmin.

“I think you underestimate how physically incapable of keeping their hands to themselves Mingyu and Jihoon are,” Chan laughs whole-heartedly.

At some point, the singer points out an isolated bench further away from the path, lit up by a single streetlight. Chan grabs his hand again to take him there. It takes all of Seungkwan’s willpower to refrain from lacing their fingers together.

“Perfect!” Chan drops down on the bench, nodding with satisfaction. “Come on, sit down! I have something for you.”

“Wait, what?”

Seungkwan peers curiously as the youngest opens his backpack, whipping out a ukulele.

“Tada!” he beams, strumming the strings happily. “Did you think I was going to let you go home without your weekly song?”

“You can’t be serious,” Seungkwan covers his face with his two hands, peeking shyly at the singer through his fingers. “You’re really doing this.”

“Of course I am,” Chan smirks. He adjusts his grip on the tiny instrument and clears his throat, like he would before an actual performance. “Ladies and gentlemen. Let me dedicate this next song to Boo Seungkwan, the one and only.”

Seungkwan looks around but there’s no one walking on the path nearby. It’s just the two of them, alone under the starry night sky. Chan takes a deep breath as he starts playing the first notes.

_🎶_ _Words don't come easy to me_

_🎶_ _How can I find a way to make you see I love you_

Seungkwan swallows, eyes riveted on Chan’s soft lips as the latter starts singing. His voice sounds incredibly different without a mic. Softer, rawer, but also more genuine. Strands of purple hair fall back onto his forehead when he slightly bobs his head to the rhythm.

_🎶_ _This is just a simple song that I've made for you on my own_

_🎶_ _There's no hidden meaning, you know, when I say I love you honey_

_🎶_ _Please believe I really do 'cause_

Seungkwan shifts uncomfortably on the bench, feeling his cheeks grow redder by the minute. It feels strangely intimate, sitting away from civilization and listening to a love song being performed just for his ears. Tonight, there is no crowd of fangirls to yell Chan’s name as soon as he steps on stage. It’s just him, listening intently like he’s witnessing a miracle.

_🎶_ _Words don't come easy to me_

This has all got to mean something, hasn’t it?

When Chan strums the strings of his ukulele one last time, he shoots a little smile at Seungkwan. Rather than smug, he looks shy, like he’s scared of his reaction. Seungkwan stiffens and claps awkwardly at a fast pace, desperate to break the tension in the air, and the singer chuckles.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you that yet but,” he clears his throat, looking away,” you’re really talented, you know?”

“Am I now?” Chan laughs as he regains his usual smugness, running his hand through his colorful hair.

“This is the first and last time I’m telling you this,” he scoffs, “so you’d better remember it. I’m not repeating myself.”

The youngest hums with a knowing smile, like he can see right through that blatant lie, but he doesn’t insist.

On the way back, they fight over their respective selfie-taking skills — “I’m telling you your poses are weird, Seungkwan!” “And I’m telling you you look like an idiot in those angles!” — and end up taking at least a hundred pictures together, candids and selfies alike. They laugh until they can’t breathe, tickling each other like they’re five years old again, and Seungkwan swears his heart hasn’t felt so full in years.

There’s a strange knot in his chest when they reach his apartment — Chan having insisted on walking him back home — and Seungkwan swallows. He doesn’t want the night to end.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he croaks out, keeping his eyes riveted on the tip of his shoes.

He feels like he’s fifteen years old all over again, awkward and painfully self-conscious like his teenager self was before he grew a thicker skin and learned how to act self-assured.

“Hey,” Chan extends his arm to hold Seungkwan’s hand, softly brushing his thumb over the oldest’s knuckles. “We can have plenty more of those, whenever you want!”

Seungkwan smiles, raising his head timidly. They’re standing close enough for him to see the tiny moles on Chan’s cheeks.

“You know, sometimes I don’t know what to make of the things you say.” Chan tilts his head to the side, waiting for him to elaborate. “Of the songs you sing for me.”

His breath hitches, panic slowly creeping in. The youngest stares with his big doe eyes intently, making his cheeks burn up.

“I never sing anything I don’t mean, you know.”

Chan lifts his right hand to hold Seungkwan’s face delicately, and the latter stiffens slightly under his touch. His pulse races wildly under his skin. When the youngest leans in and lays a kiss on the corner of Seungkwan’s lips, he thinks he might faint on the spot.

“See you soon,” Chan mutters with a loving smile.

He turns around and disappears at the corner of the street, leaving Seungkwan stunned and alone with his own thoughts.

**—** **✨** **WEEK EIGHT** **✨** **—**

His insides feel like they’re tied up in five hundred knots. Seungkwan takes a deep breath, hoping to calm his racing pulse. He’s nervous.

He’s standing in the front row on the left side of the stage, half hidden behind a curtain, since the other fans won’t let him step any closer. Now that he’s right there in the middle of them all, he realizes just how many girls are coming every week to listen to Chan, and how pretty most of them are. He readjusts his navy cap, feeling self-conscious.

There’s only one other guy nearby, standing right in the center front like he belongs there, unbothered by the seething glares some other fans throw at him. Seungkwan keeps side-eyeing him curiously. The stranger is definitely not the type he would have expected to see at a rock live bar. Dressed in a, frankly speaking, abominable and borderline criminal rainbow tie-dye sweatshirt and loose jeans, he looks slightly out-of-place. However, he’s undoubtedly one of the most handsome men Seungkwan has seen in his entire life.

The lights suddenly go dimmer and an expectant hush falls over the small crowd. Seungkwan’s grip on the small bouquet he’s holding tightens. Hopefully, the flowers will survive until the end of the show.

(Thankfully, he made sure to arrive at the Network slightly later so he could hide the bouquet from Soonyoung and Seokmin. They would never let him live this down if they knew.)

When Chan jumps on stage excitedly, followed closely in tow by the other three musicians, his heart leaps in his chest. They’ve both been busy during the week — Seungkwan being stuck in countless meetings every day while the singer was off doing God knows what — so they barely texted at all. Seungkwan’s missed him.

“Good evening everyone!” the singer shouts, sounding even more hyper than usual. “Are you having a good time?”

The crowd cheers excitedly and Seungkwan smiles in anticipation. Chan looks particularly good tonight, dressed in a black suit with a red rose tucked in his breast pocket. It’s fancier than his usual stage attires, but Seungkwan is definitely not going to complain about it. Mingyu, Jihoon, and Seungcheol have also dressed up today. He wonders what the occasion is.

“That’s good to hear!” Chan continues, laughing into the mic. “Because tonight, I want to start with a very special song for an even more special someone.”

His eyes focus on someone in the middle of the front row, and his smile grows even wider. Genuine and fond, even. Seungkwan shifts uneasily, turning to peer at the audience where Chan is looking.

“This someone is one of the most important people in my life so I had to,” he continues. “Vernon, this one’s for you!”

The guy in the rainbow hoodie laughs, running a hand through his silver hair like he’s embarrassed. Jihoon starts playing familiar chords while Chan unhooks the microphone from its stand.

What is happening…?

_🎶_ _When your legs don't work like they used to before and I can't sweep you off of your feet_

_🎶_ _Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?_

When Chan performs, he usually makes sure to look at everyone in the audience to make them feel engaged; Seungkwan has observed him long enough to know his quirks by heart. However, this time he’s only focused on one person. He gives his whole to the lyrics, belting out the notes like they mean the world.

_🎶_ _So honey now, take me into your loving arms_

_🎶_ _Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_

Chan steps closer to the edge of the stage and extends his hand towards the silver-haired man, who takes it without hesitation. The singer makes him twirl playfully.

When the song reaches a guitar solo, he bends down and gives the stranger a tight hug, planting an affectionate kiss on his cheek. Seungkwan’s throat tightens until he can barely breathe. He feels like something just broke inside his chest.

Seungkwan loosens his grip on the bouquet, realizing how hard he’d been clutching it. His hand hurts, but not as much as his heart does. He feels like he’s going to be sick. He needs to get out of here before he does anything stupid.

He grabs his coat but his friends aren’t looking, too absorbed in the performance, and Seungkwan slips outside quickly right as he hears the singer crooning “ _Maybe we found love right where we are_ ”.

He doesn’t realize how long he walks, elbowing everyone standing in his way, until he stops at a crossroad. When he raises his head to the sky, he sees snow. His eyes fill up with heavy tears.

His thoughts are racing, desperate to make sense of what he just witnessed, but he is lost. All those songs Chan has sung supposedly for him, were they simply for the fun of it? Has he been playing around all along, toying with Seungkwan’s feelings when he already has someone in his life?

Right as Seungkwan was starting to open up, choosing to believe in Chan’s earnestness, the singer had to go and betray his trust.

Seungkwan bites hard on his lower lip, remembering the radiant smile of the silver-haired stranger as he grabbed the singer’s hand. Chan’s words keep circling inside his mind. “ _I never sing anything I don’t mean, you know._ ”

He’d been naive enough to believe that they had _something_.

Seungkwan quickly wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, ignoring the weird looks from passersby, and bolts forward as soon as the light turns green.

“That was too good to last, I guess…” he mutters to himself.

He tosses the flowers into the first trash bin he walks by.

**—** **✨** **WEEK NINE** **✨** **—**

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Network?” Seokmin asks, eyebrows knit in concern.

Seungkwan hums vaguely, curled up on the couch. Some nonsensical variety show is playing on TV but he isn’t paying much attention.

“I’m tired, I’m not in the mood to drink,” he explains, fiddling with the hem of his blanket.

Seokmin seems to sense there is more to the story than he lets on. His friend has always been very perceptive. Thankfully, he also isn’t one to push boundaries and make people uncomfortable. The oldest kneels down next to the armrest where Seungkwan has rested his head and runs his hand through the youngest’s hair. He sighs, relaxing under his touch.

“If you need anything, or just to talk… you know you can count on me, right?” the redhead mutters, messing up Seungkwan’s bangs.

He nods, shooting a fake smile at his friend.

Seungkwan feels like he’s going crazy. He’s thrown himself into his work ever since last week, taking on more projects than his manager was initially willing to give him, yet his mind never seems to let go of what pains him the most.

His heart screams Chan’s name day and night.

Maybe the singer tried to call or text him since last Friday. Maybe he doesn’t care and didn’t bother. Seungkwan wouldn’t know since he’s blocked his number, renaming him to “🚫 **DON’T CALL** 🚫”, in hope he’d be able to move on easily. He can’t block the bad dreams keeping him up at night, though.

He desperately needs a distraction.

“You know what?” Seungkwan sits up suddenly, startling the redhead. “What if we went to the karaoke tonight? It’s been such a long time!”

Seokmin purses his lips, reluctance painted all over his face. Seungkwan doesn’t need him to voice it out loud to know: “ _What about Soonyoung?_ ” is what he’s thinking about.

“Please, hyung?” he insists, holding Seokmin’s hands like he used to when they were kids.

He feels bad resorting to manipulation, taking advantage of Seokmin’s kindness and people-pleasing tendencies, but he really needs to get away from their apartment and _do something_ to keep his mind busy. Singing his heart out all night long would be a good start.

The redhead sighs, smiling at Seungkwan.

“Okay, okay,” he gives in. “I’ll just give a call to Soonie while you’re getting ready, then.”

“You’re the best,” Seungkwan beams, jumping to his feet. “I’ll pay for the snacks, promise!”

“Why do I feel like you’re buying my friendship with food?” the redhead chuckles, grinning brightly.

“Me?” he gasps, feigning offense. “You know I would never!”

Seokmin throws a pointed look at him, raising his eyebrows, and Seungkwan smiles playfully.

When the two friends get back home at 2 in the morning, throats sore from overuse and minds full of the lyrics they belted out for hours on end, they find Soonyoung waiting for them in the hall. He looks upset, arms crossed as he leans against the wall.

“Seungkwan, can you tell me what’s going on?”

Seungkwan’s smile vanishes instantly. Bright, cheerful Soonyoung isn’t usually one to give out scoldings, but he only ever uses Seungkwan’s real name when he’s angry. The youngest gulps, wondering if Chan had the nerve to mention anything to his best friend.

“What do you mean?” he asks, refusing to meet Soonyoung’s eyes as he puts his coat away.

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”

“What if I really don’t?”

Seokmin stands between the two of them, anxiously eyeing the youngest and then his boyfriend, like he doesn’t know which side to stand on. Seungkwan feels bad for subjecting him to this after he so kindly agreed to go to the karaoke without asking any questions.

Soonyoung sighs impatiently, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Then can you please tell me why you’re avoiding the Network like the plague? You’ve been acting weird since last Friday.”

“I haven’t,” the youngest pouts, reluctant to elaborate. “Like I told Seokmin hyung, I was just not in the mood to go out for drinks.”

“And what does that have to do with you randomly cutting Chan out of your life, exactly?”

Seungkwan purses his lips, his face turning red with shame. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation right now.

“That’s none of your business, hyung.”

“It becomes my business when a friend of mine gets hurt in the process,” the brunet insists, visibly angry.

Seungkwan looks at him sideways, mouth slightly gaping. He can’t believe that Soonyoung would choose to support Chan over him. He hasn’t told his friends about the extent of his “flirting” with Chan, but wasn’t Soonyoung there to witness what happened last week?

“Oh, so now you’re taking _his_ side?” he scoffs, feeling his eyes slowly filling up with tears.

He bites the inside of his cheek, trying his best to calm down. He hates himself for being an angry crier.

“For god’s sake, I really don’t get you sometimes, Seungkwan!”

Seokmin suddenly steps towards his boyfriend, placing a hand on the brunet’s chest to make him calm down. Soonyoung sighs, taking the redhead’s hand into his own and kissing their intertwined fingers.

“Did he do something? Did you meet someone else?” he continues with a softer tone. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us anything, Kwannie.”

Seungkwan stares in disbelief, shocked. How can his friend even ask such questions? Soonyoung was the one who pushed him into Chan’s arms in the first place.

“Just… just drop it, okay? Please, hyung.”

The oldest sighs in defeat.

Before Seungkwan can escape into his bedroom, Soonyoung catches him by the shoulder and takes his phone out of his pocket. The youngest peers curiously at the screen when he opens his photo gallery.

“I think you should watch this.” Soonyoung smiles sadly, handing out his phone. “You can give it back to me tomorrow. Good night, Kwannie.”

Seungkwan closes the door to his bedroom behind him, breathing out heavily. He’s very tempted to go straight to sleep, but Soonyoung seemed so adamant that he can’t bring himself to just ignore his friend.

He settles on his bed comfortably and unlocks Soonyoung’s phone with his thumb — the three of them have shared access to their phones with each other for convenience ever since they bought their first smartphones — and scrolls through the gallery until he finds the video in question. The preview is clear as day: it’s a recording of Chan singing on stage.

Seungkwan sighs, heart pounding. If he ends up crying again over it, Soonyoung will definitely hear about it. He presses the ‘play’ button anyway, hoping for the best.

Chan is alone on stage, sitting on a stool with his usual black and white guitar, while his bandmates are nowhere to be found. Soonyoung seems to have recorded this from the front row — does he actually work as a bartender or does he just spend his time at the Network walking around? — because he’s close enough for Seungkwan to see the tired smile on Chan’s face.

There’s no introduction, no playful chat with the audience like he usually does. After he adjusts the microphone in front of him, the singer starts playing a longing melody on his guitar.

_🎶_ _Every time I think of you, I always catch my breath_

_🎶_ _And I'm still standing here, and you're miles away, and I'm wondering why you left_

Seungkwan shivers. He’s never heard Chan singing songs that weren’t fun or hopeful before, so this one hits very different. He isn’t acting like his usual confident, charming self, like the Chan who was born to shine under spotlights.

_🎶_ _I'm sending you this signal tonight_

_🎶_ _You don't know how desperate I've become, and it looks like I'm losing this fight_

Chan looks right into the camera while he sings those lines softly, and Seungkwan feels like he’s going to lose his mind. His heart wants to believe it, but he doesn’t want to be played again.

_🎶_ _In your world I have no meaning, though I'm trying hard to understand_

_🎶_ _And it's my heart that's breaking down this long distance line tonight_

Seungkwan starts sobbing before he realizes it. As much as he has lied to himself about it, he really liked Chan. So why did it have to end up this way? He can’t understand at all.

When the song comes to its end, Chan grabs the microphone with a trembling hand.

“ _This one was dedicated to my one that got away. Enjoy your night, everyone._ ”

He gets up, grabs his guitar, and exits the stage without a second look right as the video ends.

Seungkwan sits there, blinking his tears away. None of this makes any sense at all. Is Chan trying to express regrets through this? He’s got quite some nerve to portray himself as a victim.

Seungkwan sighs, closing his eyes. If he doesn’t want to hurt even more, he should probably stay away and ignore what he just watched. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time Chan lied through songs.

He rubs his face until his skin turns red, but there’s nothing he can do; he won’t stop crying.

**—** **✨** **WEEK TEN** **✨** **—**

Seungkwan wakes up with a start to the sound of the doorbell ringing. He sits up on the couch, stretching his arms as he finds his bearings. The delivery man has come earlier than he anticipated. He gets up on his feet and slowly heads to the front door, still drowsy from his nap but mouth watering as he visualizes the black bean noodles he ordered twenty minutes ago.

But when he opens the door, he doesn’t find quite whom he expected to see.

“Hey, Seungkwan,” Chan greets him with a grave look.

He tries to slam the door in his face, but Chan is quick enough to stick his foot inside the door frame. Seungkwan sighs, pausing for one second, before he opens again.

“What do you want?” he snaps, scowling.

“Since you wouldn't come to the bar anymore, I thought I might just have to bring my guitar and myself to you then.”

“You and your stupid guitar…” he rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

“Can I come in?” Chan insists. “Please, Seungkwan.”

He looks at him with knitted eyebrows, clutching the strap of his guitar case. He seems sincere. Seungkwan purses his lips, already regretting his decision.

“… Alright. But not for long.”

The singer comes in quietly, takes his shoes off in the hall, and follows him in tow to the living room. Seungkwan plops down on one side of the couch while Chan puts his guitar down and sits on the other side, fiddling nervously with his fingers.

With Soonyoung and Seokmin at the Network for the night, they’ve got all the time and privacy they could wish for.

“How have you been?” he asks cautiously, side-eyeing Seungkwan.

“Just get to the point.”

Chan sighs, running a hand through his faded purple hair, and Seungkwan crosses his arms expectantly. He’s desperately trying to keep it together but he’s trembling. It feels strange, sitting so close to Chan after such a long time. His heart pounds violently inside his chest.

“We should probably talk, don’t you think? About… whatever it is that happened and led us to this.”

Seungkwan’s throat tightens when he hears the uncertainty in Chan’s voice. It’s like his heart is breaking a second time. How can he act like he doesn’t know? His vision gets slightly blurry as his eyes fill up with tears.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that, too,” his voice breaks on the last word, and he wants to slap himself for sounding so weak.

“Seungkwannie,” Chan shifts closer to him, placing a careful hand on his thigh, “please, talk to me. What did I do so wrong for you to start avoiding me?”

“I don’t know if I can trust you anymore, to be honest,” he mutters.

Chan takes back his hand and stares in disbelief, hurt painted all over his face. Seungkwan doesn’t know how much longer he can hold off the tears.

“You came out of nowhere, trying so hard to… to _woo_ me, I guess? And I really wanted to believe it, you know. But now, how can I?” Seungkwan’s breath hitches, and he breathes out slowly. “One day you’re singing me love songs and making me feel so special, and the next it looks like you’re just playing around with me.”

Seungkwan bites hard on his lower lip, heavy tears rolling on his cheeks as the memories flood in. Chan looks shocked by his confession.

“What are you saying? Don’t tell me that…” His mouth gapes as realization dawns on him. “Oh no. Is this about Vernon?”

Seungkwan turns away, sniffling, and Chan doesn’t need much more confirmation than that. He holds Seungkwan’s face carefully, and the latter has no other choice but to look him in the eye. Seungkwan puts his own hands on the other’s arms, unsure of what is coming.

“Seungkwannie, listen to me.” He breathes in, eyebrows knitted as the corners of his lips raised into a reassuring smile. “Vernon, he’s… he’s just my best friend.”

Seungkwan almost wants to laugh — after all, who would sing goddamn love songs to their friends? — but Chan looks dead serious.

“He got engaged to his long-term boyfriend Minghao recently, and me and the guys were all so happy for him. We really wanted to perform something special to celebrate. He’s our band manager, you know?”

Seungkwan breathes out deeply, feeling as if a heavy weight had just been lifted off his chest. He remembers the four musicians stepping on stage, dressed in their fancy suits, Chan’s bright smile as he hugged the silver-haired stranger and sang Ed Sheeran’s _Thinking Out Loud_ — one of the most iconic songs about growing old with your special someone.

“I’m so sorry, Seungkwannie, I never realized how it would come across to you…”

“You can’t be serious…”

Seungkwan buries his face into his hands, muffling a sob. Chan places one arm around his waist and the other on his shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace that he gladly welcomes. Chan’s perfume is all over him, comforting. Seungkwan cannot help himself, crying all of his sadness and frustration in his arms.

“You’re so stupid, I can’t believe you, why would you do that to me…” he mutters between two sobs, pulling away and pretending to hit him.

Chan catches him by the wrist and Seungkwan freezes. He looks at him intently, eyes going up and down, like he’s taking him in. Before he can overthink it, Seungkwan leans in and steals a kiss.

Chan doesn’t let him pull away, keeping him close and crashing their lips together again. Seungkwan gasps into the kiss, feeling a shiver travelling down his spine. His head is spinning. He’s dreamed of this moment longer than he would admit. His heart pounds like it might implode, feeling too much at once.

Without realizing what’s happening, he finds himself straddling Chan on the couch, the latter’s hands firmly secured on his hips. Chan’s strong thigh muscles twitch slightly under his weight. They kiss like they would normally talk to each other: with wordless love, obvious care, and a little bit of cheek. Seungkwan nibbles lightly on Chan’s lower lip, and the latter smiles into the kiss.

“I really missed you,” he whispers, pulling away briefly before kissing him once more.

Seungkwan seems incapable of taking his hands off him, as if the singer might disappear from his life if he ever let him go. Chan’s skin feels hot under his fingers, and Seungkwan softly caresses his cheek with his thumb. He wishes this moment could last forever.

“God, I like you so much,” he confesses between two breaths. “You have no idea.”

“Welcome to the club, then,” Chan grins smugly before leaving a trail of light, tickly kisses in Seungkwan’s neck.

He shivers, baring his throat for easier access. Chan nibbles on his skin playfully, and Seungkwan’s pulse starts racing even more. He pulls away, overwhelmed. He feels like his whole body’s been lit on fire.

Seungkwan gets off Chan’s thighs to sit properly, nestling against the other’s side. The latter wraps his arms around Seungkwan’s shoulders, holding him tight like he’s never going to let go anymore.

“You’re still an idiot,” Seungkwan whines jokingly, wiping the tears off his face with his sleeves.

“Not as much as you are,” Chan retaliates, laying a kiss on top of his hair.

“You’re the one who came all the way here with a huge guitar case…”

Chan looks at his instrument, abandoned in a corner of the living room, like he’s finally remembering its existence.

“Speaking of which,” he gets up slowly, a gleam in his eye, “I haven’t played today’s song yet.”

“Did you seriously plan one before coming here?”

Chan hums noncommittally as he unzips the case and takes out his trusty black and white guitar. He comes back to sit down next to Seungkwan and briefly caresses the latter’s thigh.

“You know, I’m not that good with words,” he starts, absent-mindedly strumming the strings. “Music has always felt easier. Especially when I have important things to say.”

“Well,” Seungkwan smiles softly, leaning on his side against the backrest to face Chan, “I’m listening.”

Chan’s face lights up briefly, turning thoughtful almost immediately as his fingers start playing. His guitar sounds even more charming when unplugged, and Seungkwan finds himself falling even further. He remembers their date under the stars, and all of the words Chan has ever sung to him.

“This song is for the one and only, the one I thought I had lost forever,” he mutters so quietly Seungkwan barely catches it, his cheeks flushing slightly.

The notes sound wistful, echoing slightly in the apartment. Seungkwan notices Chan’s Adam apple bobbing up and down as he gulps. He seems more stressed than ever.

_🎶_ _Time, it needs time to win back your love again_

_🎶_ _I will be there_

Chan’s soft voice sounds heavenly to his ears, and Seungkwan closes his eyes briefly to enjoy the music.

_🎶_ _Fight, babe, I'll fight to win back your love again_

_🎶_ _I will be there_

When he opens his eyes again, Chan is glancing anxiously at him, like he’s wordlessly asking for Seungkwan’s forgiveness. He caresses Chan’s knee lightly, hoping to reassure him.

_🎶_ _Is there really no chance to start once again?_

_🎶_ _I'm still loving you_

This time, Seungkwan doesn’t clap at the end of the song. Instead, he places his hand on Chan’s nape and pulls him closer. Their lips brush tentatively before they meet each other with hunger, tongues intertwining.

“You don’t need to fight for my love, you know,” he promises. “You already have it.”

“So cheesy,” Chan teases, but Seungkwan notices the waver in his voice.

“Oh, shut up, you.”

**—** **🎇** **WEEK TWENTY** **🎇** **—**

When the lights go out, Chan thanks the audience one last time before he puts his guitar down on its stand. His voice is hoarse after singing for over an hour on end but he’s feeling ecstatic, like always after a good show. He gave all of his energy to the performance, which the audience returned with loud enthusiasm.

Since his other bandmates are slow to get a move on, he jumps off the stage without waiting for them and heads straight to the bar. Soonyoung is wiping down the countertop distractedly as he talks to another barman. Chan looks around and pouts slightly. His boyfriend is nowhere to be seen.

“Hyung, have you seen Seungkwan?” he asks the brunet.

Soonyoung purses his lips like he’s trying to suppress a laugh. Chan squints. He looks up to something.

“What is it?” the youngest questions impatiently, crossing his arms.

Soonyoung’s eyes look somewhere behind him, and Chan squints. When he turns around, the stage is lit up again with a new singer standing on it. His mouth gapes when he recognizes Seungkwan, who grabs the microphone and smirks.

“ _Ladies and gentlemen_ ,” he starts with a thick accent, “tonight you get to enjoy a bonus performance. Let me dedicate this song to the gaping idiot in the leather jacket over there.”

Chan scoffs, scandalized. His boyfriend has taken his place on stage, surrounded by _his_ bandmates — who don’t seem surprised by what’s going on at all — and he hasn’t heard anything about this. Jihoon has grabbed Chan’s guitar in his absence, and he throws a toothy smirk in his direction as he starts playing a familiar melody.

Chan turns to stare at Soonyoung, shocked.

“Excuse me, what is the meaning of this exactly?”

The brunet throws his head back and laughs loudly. Chan feels his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How many people are in on this?

“Well,” he smiles mischievously. “I think Kwannie got you, this time.”

He gestures at the stage, where Seungkwan is getting ready to sing. Chan swallows. He’s got to see this from the front row.

The crowd parts easily around him when he comes to stand in the center, as close as he can to his boyfriend. Seungkwan seems tense, tapping his foot nervously on the ground, but he’s glowing under the spotlight.

Seungkwan closes his eyes, breathing in, and Chan’s heart skips a beat in anticipation. Nothing could have prepared him for what he felt when Seungkwan started singing.

_🎶_ _I could stay awake just to hear you breathing_

_🎶_ _Watch you smile while you are sleeping_

He probably looks like an idiot, mouth gaping wide like he’s witnessing a miracle, but he can’t help himself. Seungkwan’s voice is powerful, hitting all the notes with ease. Around him, everyone has closed their eyes to appreciate the moment, bobbing their heads to the slow rhythm. Chan never knew his boyfriend was such a talented singer.

Unsurprisingly, they’ve kept bickering about music ever since they became official — Seungkwan, being a huge fan of pop music, never fails to complain loudly whenever Chan turns on one too many rock songs — and Seungkwan has sworn on multiple occasions that he’d never be caught jamming to Chan’s “lousy old songs from the past century”.

Chan’s been played.

_🎶_ _Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep_

_🎶_ _'Cause I'd miss you baby, and I don't want to miss a thing_

Seungkwan belts out the chorus so powerfully that it sends chills down Chan’s spine. He looks his boyfriend up and down, taking him in like he’s seeing him for the first time. Seungkwan smiles proudly at him. He unhooks the mic from its stand and comes to the edge of the stage. Chan extends his hand and Seungkwan holds it, brushing his thumb against Chan’s knuckles. His breath hitches.

He never thought he would fall in love so fast.

_🎶_ _Then I kiss your eyes, and thank God we're together_

_🎶_ _And I just want to stay with you in this moment forever, forever and ever_

Seungkwan doesn’t wait for the song to end completely, jumping straight into his boyfriend’s arms as soon as he’s done singing his last line. Chan welcomes him gladly and doesn’t waste a second before he kisses him right here and then. Some fans whistle loudly, others let out scandalized gasps.

“I can’t believe you,” he whines when they come apart. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“You always say that you express yourself better through songs,” Seungkwan’s nose brushes against his softly, “so I thought this time I would try to speak your language.”

“You literally stole my whole band in the process,” Chan chuckles, planting a light kiss on his boyfriend’s nose in retaliation. “I’ll remember that.”

“Idiot.”

Before Seungkwan can react, Chan grabs him behind the knees and hoists him up to carry him bridal style. His boyfriend squeaks, securing his grip around Chan’s neck, as the latter twirls around.

“Yeah, but you love me anyway, don’t you?”

Seungkwan sighs, smiling shyly before he buries his head in Chan’s neck in embarrassment. Chan tightens his grip around him.

He’s never felt happier in his life.

“Lee Chan, can you stop making out with your boyfriend and come tidy up our stuff now?” Jihoon asks using the mic.

Chan scowls, his face turning to the deepest shade of red it can produce, and everyone in the bar bursts out in laughter, Soonyoung the loudest of them all.

— **🕧** **WEEK ZERO** **🕗** —

Chan rests his chin in the palm of his hand, listening to Soonyoung as he retells yet another one of his disastrous stories. This time, his boyfriend, his best friend, and he somehow managed to wreak havoc in their kitchen when they tried to bake heaps of cookies last weekend.

The barman has been working at the Network for less than two weeks, but Chan — who comes here almost every day and thus had many opportunities to chat with him — feels like he’s already heard his entire life story and more. Not that he’s complaining; he and Soonyoung have clicked almost immediately. He’s fun to talk to.

“God, Kwannie’s face was so red when he saw the pack of flour I spilled on the floor,” the elder cackles, throwing his head back. “I thought he was going to kill me for good! Thank God Minnie was here to protect me.”

Chan grins, picturing the situation in his mind.

“I think I’ve got pics from that day,” Soonyoung perks up, taking his phone out of his apron.

While the barman scrolls through his gallery, surprisingly filled up with countless pictures of a popular idol — he really didn’t peg him as the fanboy type — Chan leans in curiously. He’s already heard so much about Seokmin and Seungkwan that he almost feels like he knows them, but he has yet to see what the two look like.

“Ah, there it is!”

He taps on a picture of the three of them laughing at each other and their messy states. Soonyoung is the one taking the selfie, grinning so wildly his cheeks round up extraordinarily — not unlike a hamster. He’s holding another man by the waist, which Chan guesses must be Seokmin, judging by the way Soonyoung’s hand slips sneakily under the other man’s t-shirt.

When Chan lays eyes on the third man, arm wrapped around Seokmin’s neck as he smiles brightly at the camera, his breath hitches. Warm brown hair frames the man’s gorgeous, slightly golden skin, traces of white flour visible on the tip of his nose and right cheek. When Soonyoung described his friend to him, this was definitely not what Chan expected the “kind of funny, often sulky, but overall very precious” Seungkwan to look like. He’s got lips no sane person would want to leave un-kissed.

“… He’s so cute.”

“Who, Seokminnie? I know, right?” Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle as he evidently pictures his boyfriend’s face in his mind. “I feel so lucky every morning waking up next to him.”

“I mean… Yeah, your boyfriend too, obviously,” Chan nods, looking at the redhead smiling brightly on the picture despite the evident amount of flour in his hair, “but I meant your friend.”

“Oh?”

Soonyoung looks at him intently, pursing his lips like he’s holding back a laugh. Chan’s lips set into a hard line, waiting for him to elaborate, but an awkward silence settles between them. He sighs. Soonyoung’s not going to help if the singer doesn’t spell everything out loud, is he?

“… Is he single?” he gives in, and Soonyoung beams victoriously.

“What if he was?”

The barman giggles like a five-year-old and his eyes disappear into two thin slits pointing upwards. At times like these, Chan wonders which one of them is actually the oldest. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling, cheeks turning slightly pink, before side-eyeing Soonyoung.

“Then… maybe I’d try to do something about it,” he answers truthfully. “Unless, you know, you’ll threaten to kill me if I dare make a move on your friend.”

Soonyoung hums, pondering, and Chan’s face falls a little. Would he?

“No, you’re fine,” he chuckles. “Unless you plan on breaking his heart, that is. Then you’d better hide well ‘cause I’m coming for your ass.”

Chan shakes his head awkwardly. No, that’s definitely not what he has in mind.

His eyes linger over the picture, still displayed on the barman’s phone and zoomed in on Seungkwan. He can’t even understand how someone like that could be single in the first place. From what he’s gathered through Soonyoung’s stories, he sounds amazing.

“… What,” Chan squints when he notices Soonyoung’s amused smile.

“I’ll make them both come by next week.”

Chan cocks an eyebrow curiously.

“But if you really want to get his attention,” the barman continues, looking at him mischievously, “you should think of something… impactful.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Soonyoung laughs at his earnestness, and Chan pouts. The barman has taken quite the habit of teasing him whenever he can.

“Seungkwannie can be a bit difficult with subtle approaches,” he hums. “He doesn’t get it when people are interested in him, sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and sighs, like he’s witnessed it way too many times to be amused by it anymore. Chan hums. He didn’t expect Seungkwan to be the oblivious type. Or maybe he has a hard time believing in his own worth? Whichever it might be, that won’t be enough to stop him.

“Don’t worry,” Chan smiles, looking at Seungkwan’s picture once again, “I’ll make sure to get the message across.”

— 🎇🦦 **THE END** 🍊🎇 —

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my third fully fleshed-out fic!! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it 🥰️  
> Please feel free to leave a comment and tell me your thoughts about it, I would appreciate it a lot! 💕
> 
> I am definitely considering writing about other ships from this universe, notably Seoksoon and Verhao... Possibly Jigyu and Jeongcheol... I just need the right ideas for them, but I'll definitely work on it 😝
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cirelli_art) and [Instagram](https://instagram.com/cirelli_art) at @cirelli_art if you want! 💖
> 
> Take care~
> 
> **Fun facts:**  
>  \- "The Network" is actually the name of a nightclub in a city I lived in before, and I thought it was a fitting name for the bar in my fic since Seventeen has the song "Network Love"~  
> \- The physical description of the bar is based on the "Rock & Blues Live Bar" in Seoul.  
> \- Chan's guitar is a Fender American Deluxe Telecaster in the color tuxedo black and cream, in case you're curious!


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